About a week and a half ago, I was at a bar with a friend. He’s married, and, lucky for you, I’m not.

A girl sits down with us who my friend knows and who I don’t. She is definitely pretty, but she seems really distracted. I wonder to myself: what is she distracted about? She looks over at my friend and asks the worst question ever.

“Do you think I’m good looking?”

Yikes. I think the only way to deal with this situation is to induce vomiting and call a doctor. My friend takes the safe route and punts, citing his marriage to a wife.

But not me. I’m dumb.

“Oh! I’ll tell you. Hang on, let me think about it.”

Awkward silence. I’m actually thinking about the question. I’m serious, there are gears turning in my head. They are stupid, idiotic gears, but they’re turning away.

“If you have to think about it so long, the answer must not be good.”

What? Oh, no. She’s misunderstood me.

“No, I’m trying to think about how good looking my friend would think you are. Personally, I think you’re beautifully gorgeous. So, what do you do?”